


she keeps me warm

by WonderTwinC



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-01
Updated: 2015-05-14
Packaged: 2018-03-26 14:44:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3854578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WonderTwinC/pseuds/WonderTwinC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Love is the only force capable of transforming an enemy into a friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> You can perceive this as however you wish. Friends, more than friends, etc. It's all up to you.

“It looks good on you,” Nyssa’s voice washes over Laurel, surprising but not startling her. She considers the words as high praise, knowing that it was Nyssa who gave the leather jacket to her sister. “It was tailored to fit Sara, but I find that is suits you just as well.”

“Two compliments at the same time?” Laurel teases, turning to find Nyssa smiling at her. The assassin is dressed casually tonight, wearing a cream colored sweater and jeans. She looks like an entirely different person this way. Laurel finds that she prefers it.

“Don’t get used to it,” Nyssa offers, glancing idly around Laurel’s room. “Are you ready yet?”

Laurel turns back to face her mirror, sliding the jacket off her shoulders. “Almost.”

Nyssa hums in understanding, coming around to sit on the edge of Laurel’s bed inside of leaving. She taps the toe of her boots against the floor in a quiet, unsteady rhythm as she looks around. Her eyes land on Laurel’s closet. “You have a great many clothes,” she comments. Her usually dark eyes shine at the statement.

Nyssa is teasing her.

It’s charming.

“I thought there was no such thing as too many clothes,” Laurel replies, raising her head slightly to catch a glimpse of Nyssa’s reflection in the mirror.

The other woman is smiling. “Obviously, whoever said that never had the opportunity to see inside of your closet.”

There is a beat and then both of them are laughing, something that’s becoming more and more commonplace between them. Laurel finds herself enjoying the warmth of Nyssa’s laughter. It never fails to make her smile. Tugging on a red top, Laurel turns on her heel with a smile. “How do I look?”

The way in which Nyssa’s eyes roam her body makes Laurel blush. She nods. “Red brings out your skin tone. It also compliments your hair.”

“And the compliments keep coming,” Laurel chuckles, hiding her bright smile as she slides her feet into a pair of black flats and reaches for her purse. “Ready to go?”

Nodding, Nyssa stands from the bed and follows Laurel out of her room. “And where is it exactly that we are going tonight?” the assassin asks softly.

“There’s a new italian restaurant downtown that I thought we could try.” She grabs her keys from the table next to the door and glances up. Nyssa is staring at her with one of her indulgent smiles.

Laurel thinks the other woman looks pleased.

“Italian sounds pleasant.”

Nyssa steps out into the hall and Laurel follows, shutting and locking her door behind her. “Good, because I’ve already made reservations for eight.”

The sound of Nyssa’s laughter washes over her again, warm and quiet. “Then we best not be late.”

Smiling, Laurel gently bumps shoulders with her friend, watching how she smiles back. It’s a wonderful feeling.

“No, we best not.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for 3x23.

One night is definitely not enough time, Laurel thinks to herself as she reclines back on her bed.

Nyssa settles in beside her, dressed in something more comfortable than her League garb. The city is safe, everything has been set back to rights and Nyssa leaves in the morning for her return to Nanda Parbat. All of it is extremely ideal, except for that last part.

“Are you sure you can’t stay another night?” Laurel asks, turning her head somewhat to catch a glimpse of Nyssa’s expression. The dim light of a street lamp filtering in through her apartment window doesn’t do much, but it’s enough that Laurel can make out the tight set of Nyssa’s jaw.

It’s clear that she wants the same as Laurel. “I must return to Nanda Parbat to see what will become of my home.”

_Home._

Laurel wishes that the assassin considered Starling more a home, but she understands why she doesn’t. Nyssa was raised in Nanda Parbat and has spent the majority of her years being the swift justice of her father in those same halls. It’s not something that you can shake off in a single night or even a month’s worth of nights.

Still. “You know you’re always welcome here, Nyssa. I mean, you lived through one of Oliver’s pep talks, so you are practically one of us now.”

Nyssa’s brow furrows, her nose wrinkling somewhat. “I think that is taking it a bit too far, perhaps,” she replies, turning her head so that she’s facing Laurel finally, “but the sentiment is appreciated.”

Laurel smiles. “So, how horrifying was it to be a co-pilot with Oliver?”

“Absolutely terrifying,” Nyssa replies. There is something akin to happiness in her eyes. “At least he had the courtesy to not let us die.”

Their shoulders bump with their combined laughter and Laurel feels at peace. It’s the lightest that her heart has felt since failing to save Nyssa back in that warehouse a little over a week ago, but that’s the thing about friendship.

It usually tends to make you free.

“Well, now I know where Nanda Parbat is, so I can visit. It’s a bit dusty though. An unappealingly hot,” Laurel confesses.

“Perhaps that was just your leather fortress of buckles,” Nyssa teases softly. She wishes she could have laid eyes upon Laurel in Nanda Parbat, a friendly face in the midst of her sorrow and rage. On the other hand, she can’t even begin to imagine the other woman and her group of friends storming her home with such a tiny force.

Laurel laughs again, softer this time as she closes her eyes. “I was afraid, you know. That they were going to kill you. I felt like it was on me-”

“You did what you could. I could have asked for no better,” Nyssa cuts her off quietly, staring up at the ceiling once more. “The only person in my life who has ever fought for me before was your sister. I find it an honor that you wished to do the same.”

“Wish, not wished,” Laurel replies, rolling onto her side to look at Nyssa in the poor lighting. The assassin tilts her head just enough so that their eyes meet. “I’m your friend, Nyssa. If you ever need anything, all you have to do is ask.”

_No, I’m not leaving. Friends don’t do that to one another._

Nyssa feels herself smile. “Friends. I seem to remember a similar speech from not too long ago.”

“Yeah, well, it’s no less true now than it was then.” Laurel lays on her side, using her hand to prop her head up. “You’ve got my back and I’ve got yours.”

“Indeed,” Nyssa murmurs, pushing herself up into a sitting position. “Is that diner you’re so fond of still open?”

It’s late, way past the time for milkshakes and fries, but Laurel rolls over to glance at her clock and then smiles. “Milkshakes?”

“You read my mind.”


End file.
